


Curt has Some Regrets

by M_Bow, Miss_cellaneous



Series: Spies are Dumbasses [1]
Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Barb is ignored, Curt is mega gay, Cynthia is rude, Cynthia swears a lot, Emotional Rollercoaster, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Family Reunions, Fix-It, Gen, Glitter, M/M, Making Out, Mrs. Mega is a shipper, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, References to Hitler, Secret service is in area 51, Susan deserves a raise, Swearing, This is not a domestic fic, because he is a dick bag, except dick big, it just seems that way at first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Bow/pseuds/M_Bow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_cellaneous/pseuds/Miss_cellaneous
Summary: What if Owen never turned bitter/insane? What if there never was a Deadliest Man Alive? And what if the cool characters didn't die? Well, this is a rewrite of the parts of the show that could've been different - and some story on top of that.Agent Curt Mega's life is good. He has his dream job, and is highly respected. So what's the twist? What starts off as a small mission turns out to be something much bigger. When personal problems and hidden secrets come to light, Curt begins to question who's side he's on.
Relationships: Agent Curt Mega & Mrs. Mega, Agent Curt Mega & Tatiana Slozhno, Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega, Tatiana Slozhno/OC
Series: Spies are Dumbasses [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690123
Comments: 7
Kudos: 65





	1. Things are a Little Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Curt Mega re-enters the field of spying, unaware that his old partner Owen has been alive and on the run from the Russian government for the past four years. Always on the run, he never had a chance to dwell or be angry. Meanwhile Curt has to handle shenanigans of his own.

FOUR YEARS AGO - RUSSIAN WEAPONS FACILITY

Blood blossomed on Owen’s shirt, the soaked fabric clinging to his skin. He’d definitely broken a few bones in the fall. He couldn’t believe that Curt had left him! Although he didn’t blame Curt, he was only doing his job. Grunting to himself, Owen stumbled to the nearest exit. The fact that he could even stand was a miracle, but his only thought right now was getting out of this facility before it blew. 

And was the mission even worth it? They knew the facility was important, but just how important to the Russians? He skidded around a corner, the stone floor slippery with his blood and overheard two thick accents. “The General- where is he?” Panting heavily, Owen exited the building mere seconds before an explosion rattled his bones through the land around him. He spotted the owners of the voices from earlier. “There he is! The man responsible for blowing up the general!”  
Shit.

Stealing the truck had been easy, hotwiring it was simple, but Owen had a bad feeling that running from the Russian government would be no such piece of cake. He would have to stay underground, nobody could know of his living. Not even Curt.

PRESENT DAY - PAPA SINGOLLI’S BAKERY

Sergio hummed to himself as he picked out the pastries he knew his wife would love. The place would soon be closed, and he had a business meeting he was late for. Getting a bomb to someone called Gretel. What kind of name is Gretel? This thought had crossed his mind multiple times, but this Gretel paid well, so he didn’t dwell on it. The bell jingled as two customers entered. A guy and a girl. Sergio wondered why anyone else would be visiting the bakery so late in the day. Probably running behind, like him. 

Agent Curt Mega was on a mission. It had been four long years, and this was his first day back. He always told himself not to dwell on the reason he had quit his work. It was by staying in constant denial, that he had finally plucked up the courage to return to the field.He was looking for a dangerous arms dealer, but all he saw was a suspicious looking woman and a little man who looked very stressed. All he did was blink, and suddenly the woman was holding a gun to the head of the small man. 

“Hand over the bomb.”  
Fuck. Her accent was thick. And it was Russian. “I said, hand over the bomb.”  
“To me!” Curt cut in. “Hand over the bomb to me!”  
Sergio had never been so confused in his life. He looked between them.  
“Well, uh, the lady, I mean, she has a gun, so no offence, but I think I'm going to give it to her.” He handed a black suitcase to the woman, who smiled at Curt.  
“Better luck next time.” She grinned, leaving the bakery with the bomb. 

“Damn it!” Curt yelled after the woman, glaring at Sergio like it was his fault. “Hey man, I got to go, anniversary night.” Sergio backed out of the bakery with one hand raised in surrender, the other clutching dearly onto his baked goods. Curt sighed, whipping out a card he’d snagged when the lady dropped it. “Richman’s Casino, Monte Carlo,” He muttered. “Well, I know where she’s headed!” He announced cheerfully.  
“That’s very nice sir but we’re closing now.” Deadpanned the tired teen behind the counter. Curt awkwardly cleared his throat and left.

RICHMAN’S CASINO, MONTE CARLO

Curt sighed, walking away from the panicked waiter he’d just tazed. This night was off to a great start. It didn’t help when Richard ‘Dick’ Big waltzed in, fucking up his plans and acting like - well - a massive dick, the money thing was really embarassing, and on top of that, he couldn’t flirt. Like, at all. Oh well, somehow he must’ve seduced this woman because she was leading him to the elevator. “Okay, who are you?” Curt asked, before shaking his head. “Are you working for the Russians?” He could feel the lady’s disdain without looking at her. 

“My last mission for the Russians ended yesterday.They had me apprehend a fugitive they’ve been hunting for years. I’m doing this for myself.” She paused. “And my name is Tatiana.” Curt nodded, of course not needing to introduce himself because apparently everyone knew his name! The rest of the elevator ride was in awkward silence, which Curt hated. Relief flooded him as they reached Tatiana’s floor. “I’m sorry.” She said as she led him into her room. Curt blinked, confused. “Uh, for what?”

She opened the door to her room, and Curt was met with a shower of glitter.  
“Ah, Agent Curt Mega, we come face to face at last!” The speaker was a man who appeared to be dressed in some sort of uniform, wearing a swastika armband.  
“And you are…?” the man's face contorted in rage.  
“Who am I? Who am I?! Why I am the one who will bring about your doom…” he looked Curt right in the eye. “Pause for effect..” He continued staring intensely. “Dr. Baron von Nazi!” 

“Alright von Nazi, we have a deal. Here’s Agent Mega, now I’m free from your service.” Tatiana’s ‘r’s rolled harder than usual, and when Curt turned to her he saw anger on her face.  
“...Ah yes, about that dear…” Baron tapped his fingers together. “You will never be free from my service.” He made an ‘oopsie’ face at her visual shock. “Yes, I know, I lied, moving on. Mega! You will make a fine addition to my collection! Well, technically there’s only one other person, some Prussian prince or something, but you’re both going to die so who cares!” He beamed. 

“You’re sick.” Curt growled.  
“Now, now, I know my uncle, Adolf Hitler-” he paused to see his reaction. Curt looked back impassively. “I said, my uncle, Adolf Hitler-” When he still didn’t get any reaction he sighed and continued. “He gets a lot of bad press but really he’s a good guy, and I am too! Ok, well,” he raised a pistol to Curt’s face. “Bye-bye now Agent-” Curt squeezed his eyes shut as a gunshot sounded. But when he blinked them open a second later, alive, all he saw was Tatiana holding a gun, and a massive tornado of glitter.

“...You saved me.” Curt realised. She raised an eyebrow like duh. “If you weren’t here… I would’ve died.” Tatiana nodded, frowning into the glitter that was still tumbling through the air. “Thank you. You know, maybe I need to trust you, to trust myself more. Jesus, the shit you’ll say after a near-death experience.”  
“No, I think it’s good. I think I’ve realised something too. Working for Nazi, working for the Russians, all the while being blackmailed by whoever owns me-” Tatiana’s fists clenched. “-It’s not the right thing to do. Dammit Mega, I think you’re rubbing off on me.”  
Curt smiled a bit, a little nervous because she was touching his hand. Did she think he liked her? 

“That was… not a good kiss.” Tatiana frowned.  
“I’m- you’re not my type,” Curt said awkwardly.  
“So you’re into-”  
“-yEAH”  
“Ah.”  
The pair stood there, Curt swinging his arms aimlessly. Suddenly he stood up taller. “Hang on, what do you mean, working for the Russians? I thought you said you’d finished yesterday!”  
Tatiana nodded. “Yes, I technically apprehended the fugitive they were looking for. But he’s still in my closet.” She gestured to the closet.  
“What, like right there?!”  
“... yes.”

“Seeing as I freed that prisoner of von Nazi, a prince or something, I think it’s high time I freed a captive of my own.” She walked over to the closet, and jiggled with a lock, before throwing open the doors. Curt was expecting a person to fall out, but he was still surprised when a man fell to the ground, struggling against wrist and ankle ties. His hair was matted, his clothing was torn, and his face was almost covered in dried blood, but when Curt met his eye, he knew there was no mistaking it. “Owen?”


	2. A World That Sends You Reeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much shorter chapter, but happy reunions and Cynthia has a chat with Tatiana to try to catch up on what's happened.

Owen got to his feet, glaring at Tatiana. “What mind game is this, bitch?” He hissed. He wasn’t usually one to use swearing as it was beneath his dignity, but this hit hard, using some figment of Curt, a man he hadn’t seen in years, was devastating. Curt stepped forwards. 

“Owen- you- you’re alive!” Owen turned his head, a disbelieving frown twisting his features. His hands shook as they reached out, brushing Curt’s face. There were tears in Curts eyes (that he would deny if Tatiana brought them up), Curt’s voice broke as he spoke the other man’s name, spilling out of his mouth like it was the first time he’d said it in four years. “Owen,” Curt repeated, reaching to hold Owen’s shoulders. “I’m here,” he would’ve whispered had he not been in shock, Owen collapsing weakly into his partner. Tatiana watched with raised eyebrows, though honestly, this kind of made sense to her. Curt pulled back, gripping Owen tightly. He had to apologize.

“Owen, I’m sorry, if I’d known you were alive-” Owen covered Curt’s mouth, eyes shining. “You don’t have to apologize, love. This isn’t your fault.” Seeing the argument in Curt’s eyes, Owen shushed him. “Trust me you git, you owe me nothing-” He proceeded to take his hand off Curt’s mouth to slap him. (ow!) “-except this.” He pulled Curt in and kissed him fiercely. He felt Curt smile, breaking away and holding Owen tightly. “Owen, I love you” Curt breathed. Owen chuckled, wrapping himself tighter around a man he thought he’d never see again. “I love you too,” he sighed before kissing Curt again. 

Tatiana gave them a moment, before clearing her throat. The men broke apart, turning to her, both red in the face. Owen clenched up in fear, though Curt’s expression displayed embarrassment. She smiled awkwardly, pointing between the two of them.  
“So you two... clearly know one another. Please, no hard feelings on the capture?” Owen might have replied if he didn’t collapse from fatigue at that moment. Curt (very heroically) lifted the unconscious Owen bridal style. Curt wiped the dried blood off his jaw where it had smeared from Owen’s face.

“We can’t stay here.” Curt looked up to meet Tatiana's eye, “He needs help.”  
“Alright, but where would we go?”  
“Home. America.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes.”  
“Are we going to talk about what just happened?”  
“No.”

SECRET SERVICE HEADQUARTERS - AREA 51 - U.S.A

Tatiana, Curt and a heavily bandaged Owen were waiting in a really drab, grey room when the door to Cynthia’s office opened.  
“She’ll hear your story one at a time,” Susan informed them, stepping back indoors. Tatiana headed after Susan. She looked back nervously at Curt, who smiled encouragingly and Owen who nodded as much as the bandages on his neck allowed him to. 

Tatiana ducked into the chair facing the desk. “So.” Came an annoyed voice from a short woman with a dark bob cut - this so-called Cynthia. “You’re Tatiana. Give me one reason not to fuckin’ kill you right now.”

“I don’t work for my country, on the contrary I betrayed them.” Cynthia made a face, nodding before placing down her cigarette and leaning forwards.  
“You know, I could’ve sworn I saw a third man coming in with you and Agent Mega, who went to get some medical shit. So, who is…” Her fingers scratched at the empty space on the desk in front of her before frowning. “SUSAN!” Cynthia yelled. Susan, who was standing literally one foot away, jumped and leant in with a “yes Cynthia?”  
“Get me some coffee, I need a fucking holiday.” Cynthia took a long drag on her cigarette.  
Susan toddled out amicably.

“Now, where were we?” Cynthia mused. “Huh. Well, what about the bomb, where is it now?”  
Tatiana’s brow furrowed as she wracked her memory. The last time she remembered having it was before she shot Baron von Nazi… his oher prisoner, that idiotic prince must’ve accidentally picked it up thinking it was a toy or something! Shit. 

“And tell me about whoever the flappity fuck that was with you.” Cynthia interrupted Tatiana’s internal panic with a sharp order. Tatiana opened her mouth but before she could say anything the door burst open and Susan stared at them, flabbergasted with coffee all down his shirt.  
“Cynthia?” He asked carefully. “I need to talk with you.”

THE SOUTH POLE

*A David Attenborough voice narrates out of literally fucking nowhere.*  
“Antarctica. The most isolated and remote place on earth. It has always been thought to have no permanent inhabitants. But what we have been led to believe couldn’t be farther than the truth…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter Wednesday 15th April


	3. That attitude may be your doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Curt to go back to work, and for things to hopefully return to normal. Curt breathes a sigh of relief, but he should know better. His life is never that simple.

SECRET SERVICE HEADQUARTERS - AREA 51 - U.S.A

Susan called Tatiana into Cynthia’s office, closing the door behind the Russian. Curt’s hands were clasped behind him, and he felt Owen’s fingers brush against his knuckles. He turned to the smirking Brit, looking furtively both ways before whispering, “Careful Owen, someone could see!”  
“Apologies Agent, I just haven’t seen you for so long, forgive me if I’ve missed you!”

Curt checked the waiting room again, before sighing, giving in. They’d be careful. Honestly, he needed this.  
“...Follow me,” Curt muttered before dragging a now-beaming Owen out of sight from the angled blinds in Cynthia’s door. There was nobody in the waiting room at this time in the evening. Curt turned and had barely opened his mouth when it was met with Owen’s, pressing the greatest secret agent ever back against the wall. Curt laughed a little, pushing his friend lightly off him. 

Just in time, too. Susan meandered out of the office, smiling at the boys before heading into the break room. 

The instant Susan was out of sight, they were back together. It had been a long four years, and they both felt a comforting familiarity to the other. They fell back into their old rhythm, Curt responding to Owen’s every move, hands moving from his face to his neck and trailing down his torso. Both craving this, neither noticed Susan, who stood, utterly aghast, his forgotten coffee spilling from the cup onto his shirt. 

Susan’s first thought was to point and yell ‘HEY!’ but he thought better of it. He had to report this to Cynthia. While he didn’t exactly recognise the man Curt had been with, the issue was that Curt had even been with a man. He didn’t know what else to do.

Susan busted into Cynthia’s office, eyes wide. “Cynthia? I need to talk to you.”  
Cynthia took one look at Susan’s face and booted Tatania from the office. She could tell when something was up, and Susan's worried expression was a tell-tale sign that there was a serious problem.

Tatania exited the office to find two boys sitting boredly on a couch, though she noticed Curt kept adjusting his shirt subconsciously. She didn’t point this out, but she smirked to herself, thinking she knew exactly what the boys had been up to.

“Hello Tatania,” Owen smiled, having forgiven her for kidnapping him. It had taken some convincing from Curt, but truth be told, Tatiana had released him eventually, and he had no real cause now to be mad at her. Yes they’d had a struggle before she contained him (by the way, she had an advantage; he was weak from being on the run for so long, so the fight was totally unfair.), but there had been mutual damage. This conversation had just taken place after Curt and Owen managed to break apart.

They really couldn’t be blamed, although Curt knew that they’d have to be more careful in future. 

The three of them relaxed. For Owen this was the first time in four years that he could well and truly relax and let his guard down. After a blissful minute of comfortable silence, they were all shocked back to attention by a loud outburst from Cynthia’s office.

The trio exchanged a concerned look. “We should get out of here before she finds out I’m here and tries to adopt me.” Owen suggested.  
“I don’t see why anyone would want to adopt you.” Curt joked.  
“Touché, old boy.” Owen then turned with a frown. “Where will we stay while you’re working here? It’s not like I can go back to Europe, and I assume Tatiana has no plans of returning there any time soon either.”  
“Correct.” Tatiana agreed, grimacing at the thought of her superiors faces when they realised she had never delivered the fugitive.

“Oh,” said Owen, as if he’s had a realisation. He smirked. “I think I know a place.”  
Curt frowned before jumping up. “Oh no. Absolutely not. No way.”

≁လ≁

Cynthia sat across from Curt, mirroring his frustration and anger. Curt definitely did not agree with Tatiana and Owen, the two people he cared about most in the world, (rip barb), staying with his mother. Cynthia was mad because Curt was one of her best agents, and to lose him to something as stupid as homosexuality, was not only shameful to her agency, but shameful to her. 

She had half a mind to fire him on the spot. A spark of sympathy stopped her. These allegations alone weren’t enough to fire her best agent. But from here on out, she would have to watch him like a hawk. She would watch his every movement until he made a mistake, and he could be thrown out, a disgrace that would never have to be fully revealed.

Cynthia was not one to let rumours spread. Yet somehow, when Curt headed to check on his friends down at the lab, they all shot him sidelong glances. Words were whispered behind his back, none of which he managed to catch. It wasn’t the usual ‘big dumb idiot’ teases either. Something was wrong. He could’ve sworn he caught Barb shushing her coworkers and whispering something along the lines of; “They have no proof whatsoever.”

“Hey Barb, what’s up?” Curt swaggered over, only mildly suspicious of the lab workers’ actions. I mean, they were just a bunch of nerds, right? Who cares what they think? Barb gave him a hug, glaring at her coworkers. Curt frowned, patting Barb’s head and pushing the little blonde off him. 

“It’s been a day full of surprises, you know?” Curt sighed heavily, sitting in a chair  
“Yeah, I do! One time my Aunt Rhonda and I went the beach and I-”  
“Cool Barb.” He cut her off, on a completely different train of thought.  
“It’s like, my whole life just hit me in the face, and then gave me a hug. I have mixed feelings. You get me though, Barb.” he said, patting her head again, in a manner she found only a little condescending.  
“Yeah, of course Curt,” She smiled. “I always get you.” 

Curt turned absently away from her, frowning at a new worker he’d never seen before. She was short, with curly blonde hair and vivid blue eyes that kept drifting over to him. Something about her made Curt really uneasy. He didn’t want those strange creepy eyes on him. 

“Gotta go, bye Barb!” He called, unconscious of whether or not she had been saying something to him.

≁လ≁

He continued working as normal, and barely ever got to see the other two. He hoped they were okay. Who was he kidding? They were staying with his mother. They were not okay. He didn’t have much time to think about that though, because he was busy with work. That whole week he couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling. It got worse every time he saw the strange lab worker.

He saw her a total of four times that week. Once in a coffee shop down the road, once in a library when he’d been pretending to read so Barb wouldn’t pester him, once when he had been getting a coffee from the break room, and the fourth time was in the lab a week later. Every single time she’d been watching him out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey yo, Barb.” He said, cutting off whatever Barb had been saying. He was sitting in the lab watching the mysterious lady. “Who’s the new person?”  
“What new person? We haven’t hired anyone in a couple of years, Cynthia said she didn’t want any new, potential jerks or anything. Well, I mean she didn’t say jerks, but...” Barb rambled on, and Curt, who had lost all interest, frowned at the strange woman. 

Had this mysterious worker always been around and he had never noticed her? This was plausible. Barb was always talking and usually he didn’t notice or pretended not to. Hell, he was doing that right now! But if that was the case, why did he suddenly notice her, and why did she make him feel so uneasy now? 

He was about to approach her and ask who she was, but was interrupted by a familiar voice screeched over the newly installed PA system.  
“Agent Curt Mega, get your flabby fucking ass to my office right now! God, I love this thing.”

≁လ≁

“You’re fucking fired.”  
“What?”  
“Under suspicion you’ve been working with Nazis.”

Cynthia was always very to the point with these things.

“What are you talking about? Nazis?”  
“Shut up and get the fuck out of my office.”  
“But-”  
“Get OUT!”

Cynthia hadn’t wanted to do this. He was her best damn agent. But, society today was intrusive, and would probably- definitely find out about Curt’s little secret. It would ruin her. So when she had heard someone mention secret nazi organisations, she had been relieved. The perfect excuse to fire him. Because expelling an Agent on suspicion of working with Nazis made the agency look efficient. It made her look like a damn hero, and was far better for her reputation than the real reason she’d had to fire him.

For Curt, this was extremely sudden, very unexpected and not to mention incredibly rude. He was in shock for a while, gathering his things and putting them in a box feeling very detached and numb. This couldn’t be happening. He was a spy. He was the spy - Agent Curt Mega! He’d always been one. It wasn’t like that just stopped! And the allegation? Working with Nazis? This was weirdly coincidental given his recent encounter with a man who’s name was literally Baron von Nazi, but he didn’t dwell on that at the time.

When the reality of the situation finally caught up to him, Curt did what any sensible, grown man would do. He went to his mom’s house to cry, eat ice cream and live in her basement. He just forgot there were two other people living at his mom’s house too.

As Curt trudged home, all he could really think to himself that he was no longer a spy. That was just wrong! A job like that didn’t just end! It couldn't! He was right in thinking that. But just how right he was yet to find out.

Once a spy, always a spy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up hopefully within the week. :)


	4. Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of angst coming up around Curt's job, but Mrs Mega is a gem and we love her.

MRS MEGA’S SAFEHOUSE, LOCATION CLASSIFIED

“Oh Curtis, what’s wrong baby?” Asked Mrs Mega the second she’d opened the basement door to find Curt setting up his new life. The couch was all set to be his bed. This would be where he was living now that he was unemployed. What was the point of any other job? He couldn’t bear the thought of that. For about a week, everything had been perfect. He had his dream job, Owen was alive, and he had a new friend. But now that he was no longer a spy… The others wouldn’t want him! He was nothing if not a spy. He burst into tears and ran to his mother's arms.

“I, uh, I was fired.” He mumbled into her shoulder. “Ohhh honey,” his mom wrapped her arms around her son, before leading him out of the basement. “Well, your friends are in the living room doing some arts and crafts, and I made chocolate chip cookies. Your favourite!!.” Curt put on a brave face, fueled by that promise. He did love his mom’s chocolate chip cookies.

Mrs Mega bustled into the kitchen to prepare dinner, and Curt went to face his friends who, as a matter of fact were not doing arts and crafts, but appeared to be catching each other up on events they’d missed on the other side of the room from a large pile of fabrics and glue. 

Curt watched them talking and laughing, and he was filled with shame. He didn’t deserve to be spending time with people like them. Not anymore. Before he could turn and flee to his bedroom though, his mom’s annoying voice warbled for them to come to dinner.

Around the table, Mrs Mega had prepared a delicious meal of juicy chicken and mashed potatoes, and she (thankfully) kept conversation flowing by babbling in an almost Barb-like fashion about when Curt was a baby. He was almost too ashamed to protest. Almost.  
“Mooom!”  
“I’m sorry Curtis, you know it’s just been so long since I’ve seen you, let alone since you’ve brought home any girls!” She leant across the table giving Tatiana what she probably thought was a saucy wink, but was really just making Curt cringe.  
“Mom!” He complained. Mrs Mega raised her hands in surrender and munched on her food, an uncomfortable silence settling over them. Owen and Tatiana exchanged a worried glance, and Tatiana turned to Curt with a question on her lips. Mrs Mega cut over her.

“So Tati, how long have you and Curt been together?” She waggled her eyebrows, thinking to herself ‘I am a cool mom.’  
Tatiana blinked in confusion, and Curt got up quickly, clearing his own dish. Mrs Mega made a sound of obliviousness, smiling at her guests and continuing.  
“Did you meet on the job?”  
“...Actually may I be excused?” Tatiana sent Owen a look, and though he wanted to be the one to go after Curt, he could tell Tatiana needed to get out of this situation. He turned happily to Mrs Mega instead as Tatiana followed Curt down the hallway to his actual bedroom.  
“So Mrs Mega, remember me?”  
“Ah yes, Owen, how could I forget!? Always so polite!”

The door was mostly blank, except for a wooden sign on the floor. Tatiana turned it over, where ‘SPECIAL AGENT CURT’ was painted on in big blue letters, and the edges were decorated with a plethora of different coloured finger prints that made a border. Tatiana straightened and considered knocking, but then thought better of it and opened the door.  
“Curt?” She asked tentatively, finding the spy sitting on his bed and facing the window. When he didn’t answer, she walked over and sat next to him.  
“Hey.” She reached a hand out to touch his shoulder. “Your mother told us about what happened.”  
Curt couldn’t understand why she even wanted to be near him, let alone talk to him.

“Why are you still here? I’m not a spy anymore. Why are you talking to me?” He turned away from Tatiana, ashamed to look at her.  
“First of all, I’m here because I’m your friend.” She was gentle with the words, just trying to get Curt to respond. Eventually he gave a surly shrug.  
“We barely know each other!”  
“Curt, I am living in your mother's house. I think it’s safe to say we know each other.” She laughed, and Curt managed a weak grin. He turned to her.  
“But why would you want to be friends with me? You’re not still into me, are you? Because-”  
“No, Curt. I’m friends with you because you’re a good person.”  
“No. I was a good person. But now I’m no longer a spy… I’m no one.” He returned to staring out the window. Tatiana looked at him in surprise.  
“No one? You’re the great Curt Mega? Spy or no, you’re amazing! So maybe you don't work for the agency anymore. That doesn’t make you any less of a great person, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.” She wrapped her arms around Curt in a tight hug.  
“You think so?”  
“I do. Now I’m going to go back to the table for dessert. It would be nice if you’d join us, but take all the time you need.” She closed the door behind her, and Curt smiled. She was right. The agency didn’t define who he was. He went to stare out the window contentedly, and he almost jumped out of his skin.

She was standing right there. Across the road from the house, staring at him. Her blue eyes were unnerving. He might not have recognized her if she hadn’t been wearing the same lab coat as she had the day Curt first noticed her. The mysterious lab worker was here. In front of his house. Staring at him through his bedroom window. For a couple seconds he just stared at her. Then his reflexes kicked in. He jumped up and raced out of the room and down the hall. He took a flying leap down the stairs, tore to the front door and threw it wide open, ready to confront this woman, his stalker. He stood on the doorstep staring out at the empty street. 

She was gone.

The atmosphere at dessert was somewhat more tense than it had been before, Curt on edge from the strange girl who knew the whereabouts of the safe house where his mother lived. And obviously his abrupt departure earlier, though Mrs Mega somehow still found a way to lighten the mood. “Now I know you’ve all had some chocolate chip cookies for a snack, but I would be very rude to not offer you just a bit more sugar for dessert.” She smiled, heading to the kitchen. Under the tale, Owen reached over to squeeze Curt’s hand in a silent question.  
‘you okay?’ Curt met Owen’s eyes and (truthfully) nodded, offering his partner a reassuring smile. Tatiana also had a relieved sparkle in her eyes.

“I baked brownies!” Mrs Mega announced cheerfully, shuffling back in bearing a tray of delicious-smelling brownies. Curt breathed in the warm aroma, the smiles around him and his mom’s hands patting his shoulders. It felt like life was giving him a big, safe hug. He almost forgot all about the strange girl from the lab, and he wasn’t about to let it bother him now.  
“Now Tati, I know you want to, but I can’t have you sharing’ a room with Curtis, who knows what fun shenanigans you might get up to!” She grinned and wiggled her shoulders. “So, if it’s all right, we’re going to have to switch the room you’ve been using so Curt can have his room.”  
“-Or,” Curt suggested, “We could all share.”  
Mrs Mega gave him a surprised look.  
“Oh, well if Owen doesn’t mind being a chaperone…”  
“No worries Mrs Mega,” Owen smiled. Mrs Mega beamed fondly at the Brit.  
“Such a responsible boy... Curtis, take notes! Well then, that’s that! You can all share Curtis’s childhood bedroom.”  
“Mooooom!”

The darkness of the night had swallowed Curt’s room when they got there, and Curt pulled out two spare mattresses from under his bed, glad he didn't have to sleep in the basement. It’s not like he had ever used the matresses anyway. He didn’t have many friends growing up, it was kind of hard when you were winning every competition by miles. He shook himself off that train of thought, because he didn’t want to be reminded of his current situation. Tatiana took the furthest mattress, and Owen lay on the one in the middle. Curt flopped into his bed. There was a moment of comfortable silence, then Tatiana spoke. “So, this is what a sleepover is.”  
Curt laughed awkwardly. “Yeah I guess.”  
“We should do sleepover things,” Owen suggested, seeing the silhouettes of the other two shift with interest. 

“Like what?” Tatania asked.  
“Well, you know, things like staying up really late talking, and playing games that don’t require you to move. Did you guys never go to sleepovers as kids?” The others shifted.  
“I was being trained as a weapon by the Russian government.” Tatiana admitted, and no one caught Curt’s simultaneous mumble; “I didn't have any friends.” Thankfully, before anyone could ask what Curt had said, Tatiana commented;  
“So tell me about these games.”  
“Well, one of the games I played with the daughters of my father’s friends was called two truths and a lie, and you’d go around telling three things about you - one of them isn’t true and the other two are. Then the others try to guess which statement is the lie. Shall I go first?”

“I once was responsible for the sinking of a submarine, my eyes are blue and… once I faked my death for four years.”  
Tatiana blinked. “That’s easy, the-”  
“Your eyes are brown,” Curt cut across her, before frowning and subtly reaching down to his partner. “You faked your death for four years?”  
“...I was trying to avoid the Russians, and it worked, until somehow word of my living got out and our dearest Tatiana here tracked me down.” Tatiana looked at Owen apologetically and he waved a hand dismissively. “No hard feelings love, you did release me after that misunderstanding.”

“Okay,” Curt began. “This seems fun. My turn. Um… I was arrested once, my mom thinks I’m dating Tatiana and I was on the wrestling team in high school.”  
The others hummed, exchanging thoughtful expressions.  
“The wrestling one is true,” Owen mused.  
“And your mother definitely thinks there’s something going on between us, Curt.” Tatiana added. “You’ve never been arrested?” She realised, turning to him in surprise.  
“Well, no, my job is pretty much- was pretty much above the law,” Curt petered out. Curt lay flat on his bed, so the others couldn’t see his face. This failed when Owens' curious head popped up over the edge of the bed.

“All right, mate?” Normally Curt would’ve turned away and muttered something surly, but this was Owen.  
“No. I lost my job. I guess… I guess I’m just anxious you guys won’t want to hang out with me.” Much to his surprise, his heartfelt revelation of his feelings was met with laughter.  
“You really think I’m that shallow?” Asked Owen in mock offence.  
“Well, no, I-”  
“You’re letting me hide from the Russian government at your house. I don't care if you work as a barista.” Tatania laughed.  
“Well I,” Curt harrumphed for sharing his feelings like a vulnerable fool.  
“Listen, Curt, I really don’t care what you do so long as…” Curt didn’t really understand all of what Owen said, because Owen’s usually perfectly understandable and sophisticated accent turned into a horrible slur of butchered words when he got sleepy. Curt never really understood what he was saying, but it had always been kind of cute.  
“You can’t fall asleep yet, Tatiana hasn’t had her go yet!” Curt felt almost childish as he prompted Owen awake, but it was a good kind of childish. 

The three of them laughed and chatted into the night, every couple of minutes one would shush the others but they ended up giggling like little kids. A comfy silence wrapped around them, and Curt drifted off with a smile on his face. Or, he tried to.  
“Are you guys still awake?” Tatiana whispered. Two ‘yeah’s came quietly back. She nodded, shifting in the sleeping bag Mrs Mega had provided for her. “Curt,” She muttered.  
“Yeah?” Curt’s voice came through the darkness. A sliver of soft light fell through the curtains and highlighted his silhouette turning to face her.  
“You know, just because you don’t work for your country doesn’t mean you’re no longer a spy. Look at me!” She mused, her voice subconsciously getting louder.  
“And me,” Owen added. “There is no way I’m going back to MI6, they aren’t nearly as sentimental as the americans. They’d sell me to the Russians for a cup of tea.”  
“Surely they wouldn’t.” Curt chuckled  
“Oh no, they definitely would. Government funding just isn’t what it used to be.” He sighed, and for a while more, the group fell silent.

“Hey you guys, can I tell you something that’s been bugging me?” Curt asked cautiously, not wanting to wake anyone who was sleeping. As he suspected, no one was.  
“Yeah, sure.”  
‘What’s up?”  
“Okay, so I know this sounds crazy, but I think I’m being followed.”  
Now, any normal person would dismiss this theory with a shrug. But Curt had been a spy long enough to know that if you had a hunch, chances are it’s probably correct.  
Tatiana frowned suspiciously, before leaning forwards worriedly. “Do you think it could be the Russians?”  
Curt shook his head. “No, I think they’d be, I don’t know, less obvious. This girl has been tailing me.”  
Owen smirked. “You’re sure it’s not just Barb?”  
“Huh, good point. Yeah, never mind, it’s just Barb.” Curt smiled, though his stomach still turned. He was distracted by Owen’s question to Tatiana.  
“Why were you so scared it could be the Russians? Other than the fact that you didn’t bring me to them - thanks again love, by the way.”

Tatiana hesitating, before deciding she could tell them, after all, they did show her genuine affection, and they trusted her enough to let her stay in Curt’s mother’s house.  
“Curt, do you remember Von Nazi? He was blackmailing me to aid his plan. But when I got that gun to him, I just had to shoot him. He had dirt on me. My entire history in his pocket. And… it’s a dark history.” At Curt and Owen’s silence, she continued. “When I was young - REALLY young, around four. The KGB ‘recruited’ me. I was their personal weapon, or killing machine.” She shivered at the memories. “I had to leave, my last job was, as you know, returning Owen. But I couldn’t go back there. That’s why I kept him in my room for so long. If I ever go back, it’ll be on my family’s heads. So… now you know. Everyone has secrets.”

“Speaking of secrets,” Tatiana continued, turning pointedly to the boys. Curt bit his lip, Owen’s hand finding his and squeezing it comfortingly. Tatiana shifted so she could see the vague outlines of the boys. “I won’t tell anyone, but you’ll have to be careful. If anyone found out, bad things could happen. You’d lose your jobs for one…”  
“Yeah, that’s already happened.”  
“Okay. Just, you guys are the only real friends I’ve ever had, albeit the first, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to either of you,” Her voice was still quiet from opening up.  
“So, you’re cool with us?” Curt offered, his eyes shining in the dark with hope.  
Tatiana smiled, the faint moonlight trickling through the curtains giving her an angelic halo.  
“‘Till the end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get it? Because Tati's an angel and I love her? Haha just kidding. Anyways, these dorks deserve a break.  
> And what's the deal with Curt's stalker? Guess you'll have to wait and find out...
> 
> Sorry for the wait, theres a kind of long chapter on the way.


	5. Nazis are Not So Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shocking revelation which comes out of NOWHERE puts the trio in peril, Cynthia's anger gets a little out of hand and an unlikely ally keeps them out of the clutches of a government that is perhaps not as "good" as it seems.

**JOHNSON & SINGOLLI’S JEWELERS - ONE MONTH LATER**

Curt had told Tatiana, Owen and his mother that he was in town buying donuts. But no, here he was, nervously tapping the glass counter of the town jewellers. So he was in town technically. Was this a bad idea? This was a bad idea. Just before he could turn on his heel and get the fuck out of there, the jeweler popped his head out of the back. 

“Sorry it’s taking so long sir, we’ll only be a few more minutes. If you want, we have a television in the back corner!” He smiled apologetically. 

“No worries,” Curt responded, turning to the screen as the man ducked into the back room again. 

The screen was quietly playing some news article or another, so Curt allowed himself to fall back into his thoughts. Was he being too forward? It’d only been a month since he was reunited with Owen. They’d been together for years before that, but what if he’d changed? Hell, it was a miracle that Owen still wanted him now, after Curt left him in that weapons facility. The more he thought about it, the more he worried, but eventually he came to the realization that he or Owen could die any day now, as was their lives, and he didn’t have to do anything straight away. He could work his way up to it over time. He was yanked out of his thoughts by his name blaring from the TV; 

_ “The assailant has been identified as one Curt Mega, a former government agent.”  _

On the screen was an image of Curt on a low rooftop, bearing a semi-automatic rifle. The image quality was bad, but it was clearly him. Curt reached for the dials to turn up the TV volume, mind and heart racing. What were they talking about? How did they get that photo? Curt hadn’t done anything but mope around the house for the last month!

_ “President Johnson was enjoying the sun and atmosphere at a parade in Washington, when disaster struck. Bullets hailed down from a rooftop, knocking down bystanders and heading straight for the president. Fortunately President Johnson was rushed to safety and was unharmed. The public is warned that-” _ a mugshot of Curt from a few years ago flashed onto the screen.  _ “-Curt Mega is still at large. This man is very dangerous. If sighted, do not attempt to approach him. Report immediately to this hotline or your local authority.” _ A phone number slid along the bottom of the screen.

“Hallo sir, I am back!” called the jeweler. Curt snapped the TV off. He had to get out of here before anyone recognized him! The jeweler handed him a small leather bag, which Curt took gratefully before throwing a couple of hundred dollar bills in the guy’s face. 

“Thanking you!” The guy called after Curt’s quickly retreating figure. The bell above the door jingled behind him as he called a taxi. 

“Curt Mega attempts assassination on President Johnson! Hot off the press! Read all about it!” Hollered a Newsie, waving a stack of fresh papers around in the air. Curt ducked his head and got into the cab. 

“Where’ll it be, sir?” The cabbie asked, thankfully not looking in the rear-view mirror. 

“Uh, Docks street please.”

“Mmkay,” The man shrugged before taking off.

The taxi driver, bless his heart, tried to make some pleasant conversation. Curt gave a few short answers, but the driver read the room, and decided to turn on his newly-installed car radio. 

_ “ -Curt Mega, male, dark hair, estimated 5’10 in height, weighing-” _

“Can you change the channel?” 

“Luckily for you, this thing has two channels!” chuckled the cabbie, switching the dial.

_ “-Assailant Curt Mega, I repeat Curt Mega is still at large! He could be in your neighborhood-” _

“Could you just turn it off!” Curt asked. 

He sounded upset, so the cabbie turned off the radio.

“Not a fan of the news, eh? You and me both pal, you and me both.”

Eventually they pulled up at the mouth of Docks street.

“This is my stop.” Curt exited the cab and paid the driver. After he had collected the cash he looked up at Curt. 

“Say, don’t I know you from somewhere?” He frowned suspiciously.

“Uh… I’ve been told I have one of those faces.” Curt laughed nervously.

“Okay! Well, have a good one!” The cab peeled off into the street, and Curt wiped his brow before rushing to his mother’s house. He burst in the front door.

“GUYS, HOLY SHIT!”

“Curtis, watch your language!” Mrs Mega shook her head disapprovingly. Curt ran in to the next room where his friends were, screaming,

“Shit shit fuckity fuck fucking shit shit!”

“Am I a  _ joke  _ to you?” Gasped Mrs Mega.

“I’m being framed for a-”

“We know, love.” said Owen, gesturing to the television. Curt looked between his friends gawping, blatantly ignoring his mother’s scoldings from the next room.(“Why I oughta-”)

“So you guys believe that I didn’t do anything?!” 

“Um, I’ve been here for a month,” Tatiana laughed, “and you hardly get off the couch, let alone commit assassinations.”

“Hey.” Curt pouted.

“Honey,” Mrs Mega barged into the room. “The governments here to see you.”

“Not NOW mom- wait what?”

“Yeah, they pulled up in their big black cars. I’ve always been saying you should have more people over, but this isn’t really what I had in mind.”

“You gotta stall them. I didn’t do it, but they tend to shoot first and ask questions later!” pleaded Curt.

“What am I, your slave?”

“Mom please-”

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it! Jeez!” She shuffled into the next room. “Ya cook for them, you clean them, you raise them and what thanks do ya get? Nothing!” She opened the door and right to the face of Cynthia Houston, spat, “You know what I’m talkin’ bout?!”

Cynthia tried to push past Mrs Mega, who put her hands on her hips, firmly stating “Well now, don’t be rude! I haven’t even invited you in. Besides, I was wondering when Curtis would bring some friends over. Such a shame he’s not with you, have you seen him?”

Cynthia blinked. She had been positive that Curt would go here after he lost his job a month ago - he had nowhere else! 

“Well, is he usually here?” Cynthia asked.

“Oh you’d think ah boy would visit his poor mother! But not Curtis, oh no he never even writes! It can make a gal so sad.” She sighed heavily before moving her frame to entirely block the door. “What’s up with you these days?”

“Ma’am, we have to see your son, it’s urgent,” Susan cut in as politely as he could.

“Oh of course! Well, I’ll call the pub now!” Mrs Mega pulled the phone off the wall and pretended to dial her son. “Hey! I’m looking for Curtis! Thank you. Hi- ye- uh-huh, look, how long will you be honey? We’ve got guests and I need you back here, the living room’s a mess. -Ok, well, see you soon.” She snapped the phone back onto the wall. “He’ll be here soon. In the meantime, come on in!” She ushered the mob of agents into her house, all the while apologising for the state. “While we’re waiting, ya wouldn’t mind helping out with a few chores? These dishes need cleaning, I need to fold the laundry and on top of that- well, here you are,” She piled various fabrics into Susan’s arms, before directing Cynthia to the kitchen and the agents to the couch, which was overflowing with clean laundry. “Make yourselves helpful why don't ya.” She firmly told Cynthia before leading Susan to her arts & crafts room. 

“I’ve been planning the designs for Curtis and Tatiana’s wedding. Do you know Tatiana?” She patted Susan’s shoulder, continuing before he could answer. “She’s a lovely girl, really, it’s about time if you ask me. Anyways, I need your help cutting these felts. I’m thinking of making them flowers? Whaddya think? Oh, and of course then we’ll have to sew them to the tablecloths. Ooh, I’m so excited!” Susan cast a confused look to Cynthia who raised her eyebrows and shooed him off. He deserved a raise, he thought bitterly before following the short, bossy woman who sort of reminded him of Cynthia. 

Cynthia turned back to the sink, dismayed. She had never wanted to believe any of this. For a while, Curt was even like a son to her. But when he arrived she would have to arrest him. The thought would have brought a tear to her eye if she hadn’t lost her tear ducts during the war. She then noticed something out of the corner of her eye out the window - three rapidly retreating figures. Seething, she snuck out of the house and clambered into her truck, taking off after them.

Curt’s heart was dying in his chest. Sure, he’d been keeping somewhat in shape, but he hadn’t run like this in a month, and he was embarrassed to admit that he was less fit than he might like to think. Owen and Tatiana were sprinting easily along beside him, and Curt was feeling pretty superfluous. 

“Guys, guys!” He panted, relieved when they slowed their pace. He looked between them, catching his breath before saying, “We can’t just keep running, they’ll find us.”

“What do we do then?”

Suddenly an unfamiliar voice cut between the friends. 

“I might be able to help with that,”

Curt jumped up, screeching. 

“Who are you?” demanded Owen, as he and Tatiana turned to the voice. Curt was cowering behind them, but when he peeked between their shoulders he was shocked to see his stalker leaning out the window of a sleek white Impala-looking car.

“You!” He said, channeling more confidence than he felt.

“Hello Agent Mega. I’ve been watching you for some time now.” Did she intend it to sound that creepy?!   
“Why?” Curt whined.

“All your questions will be answered. But first, duck!” None of them trusted the strange girl, but at the same time they all ducked. Just in time too. Cynthia's truck wheeled around a corner and raced past them - Curt’s Stalker’s vehicle had blocked them from sight.

“Now get in!” 

Curt exchanged a bewildered glance with Owen and Tati, but there was something about the girl that was familiar to Curt - maybe she’d been stalking him for longer than he thought, he just hadn’t noticed until recently. Also, if Cynthia caught him it’d be a real bummer, especially to hear her scold him (and, y'know, the death penalty).

The car peeled away from the curb, and the three spies squished into the back were awkwardly quiet until Tatiana said (probably much louder than she meant to - or maybe it was just right in Curt’s ear) 

“What the hell are you doing?! And why should we trust you!”

Oh shit, he had forgotten about her trust issues with strangers that might possibly be working with the Russian government - and this random lady did have an European accent, although Curt couldn’t pinpoint where it was from. All he knew was that she wasn’t American.

“Well first of all I saved your asses,” The blonde responded calmly. “And second, shut up, I’m saving your asses.” There was a clunk and Owen looked around wildly, his hair whacking Curt in the face. “What was that?” He asked, a hint of panic tinting his voice.

Curt’s stalker didn’t respond, only smirked and pressed harder on the accelerator. There was another clunk and Tatiana let out an exclamation. “You’re driving right towards the pier, you’re going to kill us all!!”

A smirk graced the stranger’s lips (Mrs Mega had always said stranger danger, and this stranger was far too dangerous for Curt’s liking), and to all three of their horror, the car drove right off the edge of the pier.

Tatiana’s hand was gripping his arm so tightly he had probably lost all blood circulation, and Owen’s hand was clutching his like his life depended on it (It probably did), and someone was screaming. Curt blinked one eye open to find that they were not in fact dead, although they were submerged and he had been the one screaming. That was embarrassing. The wheels of the car had rotated around to become propellers, and were driving the car down into the depths. Curt would’ve attacked the driver, but he was still trying to figure out how he wasn’t dead. It was then that he looked out of the window. The murky waters were giving way to the side of a metal-looking wall, and the car appeared to be driving (swimming?) into an airlock of sorts. When he looked behind him, he saw the ramp they had followed in closing, the last box of the outside world getting smaller and smaller until the ramp met the roof with a soft clunk. Curt had never seen this kind of technology in his life - and that was saying something because the American Secret Service had the best of the best!

A low humming was resonating from all around as the water was flushed out the sides, and when a green light lit up from one of the walls, the driver got out, evidently expecting the spies to do the same. Tatiana was the first out of the car, yelling after the lady. 

“Hey! You promised us some answers! What the hell?!”

The short blonde stopped in her tracks like she had forgotten something, turned around and offered Tati a smile. “Follow me,” She ordered, tightening the straps on her sleeves. That was another thing Curt didn’t like about her - how come she had straps there? Was it so she could holster a gun there? Maybe she was a spy of sorts too. He was reluctant, but Owen discreetly took his hand and gave it a light squeeze. Curt moved so their pinkies were linked, and a small sense of comfort settled in the two as they followed their fuming friend down the cramped metal-lined corridor.

Curt, Owen and Tatiana followed the stalker lady (she should really introduce herself at some point) up a ladder and through a hatch, to where they emerged onto some sort of control deck. It was small, and the few burly men in nondescript green uniforms made the space feel crowded, but if Curt’s time in the A.S.S. had told him anything, it was what the inside of a Submarine looked like. It could be a U-boat but it was difficult to tell from the inside, and no one had used U-boats since the war. This looked similar to a submarine, although it was way more technologically advanced, and he didn’t see any signs of affiliation to any country (or party).

“This technology is so advanced!” Owen marveled. 

“I know.” Stalker lady smiled proudly. “We’ve been working on it for the last couple decades. Our scientists are the best!”

“Are yoooou a scientist?” Asked Curt nosily, lengthening the ‘o’ sound just to sound really obnoxious.

“As a matter of fact I’m not, Mr Mega.” 

He still had no clue how she knew his name.

“What's your name?” He pestered.

“I don’t answer to you.” 

Curt stepped back, his pride wounded.

“Answer to me then.” Tatiana was the embodiment of intimidation, towering high with a glare that commanded respect. Stalker lady turned to Curt and gestured to Tatiana with a smirk. 

“I like this one.”

Tatiana, visibly frustrated with this remark, stepped forwards and grabbed the other woman’s shirt, yanking her close enough to make her go cross-eyed. 

“Enough, I said, answer to me.” 

Blue eyes widening, the stalker glanced down at the hand on her jacket’s lapel, muttering something along the lines of ‘Not gonna lie I’m a little turned on right now,’ before gently pushing Tatiana off of her. “My name is Elaine, and I’m taking you out of that country for your own safety. Also, y’know, boss’s orders.”

Owen frowned at her, moving closer into Curt’s side. “Who’s your boss?”

Elaine grinned. “Miss Tatiana should know him! After all, she’s the one who shot him.”

**ANTARCTICA - 5 WEEKS AGO**

As it turned out, Baron von Nazi was not Baron von Nazis real name. That much should have been obvious. He was born Victor Raubal in Austria, 1922, the youngest of four siblings. He wasn’t lying when he said he was Adolf Hitler's nephew, that much was true. But he had only met his uncle on one occasion when he was around five years old, and it hadn’t been a very long meeting. At home in Austria he was a lonely boy. His older siblings largely ignored him, and he was considered weird at school. All in all, he had been pretty miserable, until one day his life changed forever. It had been one evening in his family home that he had picked up Mein Kampf, and become immersed in it. The book captured the young boy's mind. Hitler's ideas felt fresh and new. He became obsessed, and followed Hitler and the Nazi Party closley after that. Once he invested his belief in the Nazis, he couldn’t change them. He bought into all the propaganda and was a firm believer in Aryan superiority. 

When he was sixteen, he left home and traveled to Germany. He made friends with a young man called Otto Schneider, a tailor. They worked and lived together. Victor had never really been cared about by anyone before and the two became very close. When WWII broke out, Victor volunteered for the army. Loving the Nazi party and eager to catch the attention of his uncle, he had felt this was the perfect career for him. He had been rejected. They said it was on account of his weak heart, and he had written in his journal,  _ ‘Certainly my heart is weakened now, for I cannot serve the nation which I love.’  _ He had headed home, and for years to come worked with Otto as a tailor in Berlin. All was well.

One day, a young inspector by the name of Feurgen came by the tailors. He took an immediate distaste to the two men, and made sure to close down the shop. With no source of income, Otto was forced to join up with the army. Victor was left sad and alone, his only comfort the frequent letters he exchanged with his friend. He still did all he could to contribute to the war effort, and was a strong willed young man, a Hitler devout.

When the Fall of Berlin came, men and boys were fighting on the street, clinging on to some desperate hope, a madman's dream that they had any chance of winning. Victor was no fool. He knew that it was over. The war was ending. They were losing. He was planning his final stand when he got bad news. He received word that the unit Otto served with had been wiped out by a merciless bombing campaign in the south. Grief-stricken, he fled the city. The next blow came days later, when he was lying low at an Swiss Inn. Adolf Hitler was dead. Germany had surrendered. The war in Europe was over. 

It left him devastated. Slowly but surely he felt he was losing his mind, every piece of identity he once had flaking away, until all that was left was the shell of a failure. A man who would have given everything for his nation, but blinded by grief and fear, had turned and fled like a coward. He took up the name Baron von Nazi, and for years schemed about bring back the Nazi’s, restoring them to glory to make up for his failure. Then a scary Russian woman had shot him, and suspended in the strange void between life and death, he had reclaimed his mind. 

Victor Raubal was sitting in the infirmary of a secret base in The South Pole, clutching the bullet wound just right of his heart, and wondering what he had become. A few grains of glitter stubbornly clung to his sticky red fingers, and he stared ruefully at the photo of the man he’d been trying to take down for years, the bastard who took away his chance at a normal life and indirectly killed his only friend. He turned to a different image, black and white, also pinned to his conspiracy corkboard, and got an idea. But first, he needed to do some research.

**SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTHERN OCEAN - PRESENT DAY**

“You have no idea how little that narrows it down,” Tatiana was sighing as she paced the corridor. It was really narrow, so she had to squeeze past Curt every time she walked by, and Curt had planted himself right in the center of the walkway. But she had to get out of that room and Curt had followed her. 

“I’ve shot a lot of men, Curt. She could be talking about any one of those, all I know is that none of them were good men, and I have a bad feeling about this.”

Curt took her shoulders, compelling her to calm down. 

“Look,” he began. “Whoever this guy is, apparently he wanted us out of the country-”

“By framing you for attempted assassination!”

“-Tatiana let me finish. Elaine says it was to keep us safe, so this guy can’t be all bad,”

The ginger huffed, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. “That’s another thing, I don’t like this Elaine character. You seemed awfully quick to trust her,”

Curt frowned at her accusatory tone. “Okay, first of all I’m a spy. I only trust you, Owen and myself. Secondly, if I’m being completely honest, before I was fired, something suspicious was going on with Cynthia, and she just voiced some concerns I’d already been having. I’m not asking you to trust her, but I just think we should at least give her a chance. She hasn’t tried to kill us yet. You kidnapped Owen, and though I wanted to punch you for hurting him I gave you a second chance. And now we’re like, best friends! So I think we should at least give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“...fine.”

“So let me get this straight.” 

Tatiana was accosting Elaine. 

“We are in the middle of  _ nowhere _ in a SUBMARINE, underwater, and you have a working radiophone? Where does the signal come from? How is that even possible?!”

Elaine looked calmly up from where she was seated on a fold-out bench, which was literally just a plank of wood painted to match the rest of the sub. Owen knew this because he was sitting next to her and it was very uncomfortable - there was definitely a splinter sticking into his leg. Elaine was about half a metre away from him, but that was a little close for his liking. This lady had kidnapped him, Curt and Tatiana without a good reason. Well, she had a reason, but she hadn’t cared to elaborate on the U.S. being “unsafe”. 

“The radiophone is extremely high tech.” Elaine bragged. “ It’s also highly experimental and fragile so we don’t use it yet-” She was cut off by Curt blabbing on the radiophone.

“Hey Barb, how’s it going?!” A garbled reply came through the radiophone as Elaine stared on in horror.

_ “Curt! What the chicken nuggets is going on?! You made an assassination attempt on the president, but I know you wouldn’t do it someone framed you-” _

“Yeah cool Barb, but there are more serious things to worry about. I’ve been framed for an attempted assassination.”

_ “That’s what I just said!” _

Curt frowned. “Is it? No wait- I don’t need to know. I just have to assure you that I got away from the government.”

_ “Curt, no! Running just makes you look guilty! Turn yourself in so we can get this sorted out.”  _ “Yeah, but a lady kidnapped me and she has a super cool submarine with this radiophone thing!” He waved the radiophone about. Elaine flinched when he threw the mic up into the air and caught it. 

“Besides, the government already doesn’t like me; they'll probably just arrest me. And the people in jail like me even less than the government. I put most of them there.”

_ “Listen Curt I can help! If you just listen to me-” _

“Cool beans Barb, anyways I gotta go!” He jabbed his finger into the red hang up button and cast the radiophone aside, (Elaine diving to catch it before it hit the ground). Oblivious of her obvious distress, Curt turned to his two friends.

“That was Barb.” 

“We know.” They chorused in in a dull unison. 

“Really? It was that loud?” he turned to Elaine, who was cradling the device in her arms. “You should really get a volume control on those thingies.”

Owen sighed, putting his face in his hands. Typical Curt. But he looked up to find Curt whispering with Elaine about something. That wasn’t suspicious at all. Elaine patted Curt’s shoulder before heading over to stand next to Tatiana, offering her a high five. The Russian declined. Actually, come to think of it, Curt had been acting weird and secretive for a while now. This hurt because they were always open with each other about everything. Owen decided to confront his- he didn’t really know what they were, he’d have to ask about that too. Yeah, they’d been intimate but neither had technically put a label on it. He’d have to ask about that too.

“Hey Curt?” Owen approached the shorter man, who looked up, blushing. Elaine looked between them with a smirk, before heading off to the control room. Curt fumbled with something and took a deep breath. 

“Owen- shit!” whatever it was went flying across the submarine as it lurched, the rush of heavy water buffering the vehicle at a diagonal angle. Curt scrambled towards the base of the sub, frantically searching for something. Owen watched him curiously, or at least did his best whilst clinging to a metal railing. The sub levelled itself out, and Curt continued scrabbling on the floor. Owen, immediately noting the concern on Curt’s face, rushed to his side. 

“What is it, love? Talk to me.” The Brit placed his hand on Curt’s back as the submarine lurched again. Curt spotted something and grabbed it, turning to Owen. 

“Don’t worry I’ll handle this,” Owen stood and wobbled his way to the control room while Curt blew out a frustrated sigh.

“What the hell is going on here?” Owen exclaimed the minute he’d entered the control room. He found Elaine and Tatiana calmly watching a monitor while holding onto bars on the roof (to prevent them from sliding all over the place with the jolting vehicle), while three (rather attractive Owen might add, but he was a taken man so the thought only crossed his mind for a second) uniformed men holding levers. The water pressure was building (or changing?) at an alarming rate outside, and Elaine looked over with a smirk. “I’d cover my ears if I were you,” She suggested. Owen noticed the men, as well as Elaine had earplugs in. Tatiana’s hands went to her ears, and Owen copied her carefully.

“Hey guys, what’s goin’ on?” Curt walked in just as a muffled (but still loud) boom echoed through the vehicle. Elaine removed her earplugs and stalked past Curt who had fallen over with a baffled expression smacked on his face. Owen followed the blonde girl curiously, while behind him Tatiana helped a blinking, semi-deafened Curt to his feet.

“We’re here.” 

Elaine was standing with her head poking into the clear blue sky - that noise must’ve been the submarine surfacing. Owen shimmied up the ladder onto the platform that allowed them to stand through the open hatch. Tatiana and Curt soon followed. 

“Where’s here?” Curt queried. Elaine may have answered but Curt didn’t catch it because he was staring, dumbstruck at the icy expanse in front of him. Rising from the blinding white ground was a huge structure, all hard metal. There was a single splotch of colour, that was a flag flying from a high turret.

“Hey Curt?” Tatiana said, obviously as shocked as he was. “Remember Baron von Nazi?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well - that's all folks - the end of our first collab in the series! Feel free to drop a kudos if you liked it, and please please leave comments because we LOVE getting feedback. Thank you so much for sticking around through this waffle of an attempt at a rewrite!
> 
> Best of health to all of you

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to drop a comment, we love getting them :)


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